Motorcycle Daze
by JustInunotaisho
Summary: When Hanatarou buys a new Human world device, Renji is ecstatic. RukiaxRenji, slight OrihimexIchigo. Lots of motorcycle envy. :D Rated T for swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**Dedicated to my brother Inu no Taisho - who inadvertently activated my competitive streak when he began writing so many awesome stories. -RedMiko-**

_Disclaimer: Of _**course **_I don't own Bleach. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction.._.

* * *

**Motorcycle Daze**

Renji had never seen anything so beautiful before.

The curves – such sleek curves. Sweeping down and back into delicate roundness, the soft glow begged to be touched and stroked – the way a gentle lover caressed his woman. The low hum, more a purr, really, was music to his ears. An occasional sparking cough marred the even tone, but it was a minor flaw. And perhaps the color was a little too pink. But Renji was generous – he could forgive the occasional imperfection. These quirks added character and this little machine had it in spades.

The rider on the machine almost tripped as he came to a halt in front of the red-haired Shinigami. Fumbling with the catches on his oversized helmet, he pulled it off to reveal tossled hair and a sweaty face with wide, faintly surprised eyes. Behind him sat a girl, her strawberry-blond hair mussed by the wind and her face wreathed in a smile. Attached to the machine was a small cart, filled with brown bags of groceries.

"Hanatarou?" Renji exclaimed. "Inoue-san?"

"Ah, Abarai-fukutaichou," Hanatarou half-gasped, clutching his helmet. His expression flickered from glee to trepidation.

"What the hell is that?" Renji held out an accusing finger.

"Ah, gomen!" Hanatarou scrambled off the bike and held out a hand to Orihime. "This is a scooter. I bought it to help me make deliveries."

"Deliveries?" Renji asked, dazed. He couldn't take his eyes off this bike – the chrome trim was intoxicating, in a way. He couldn't quite explain the itching in his fingers – nor the sudden urge to rip the keys from Hanatarou's hand and take off at top speed on this…this scooter.

"Isn't it cute?!" Orihime chimed, hopping off and gathering up her groceries. "Thank you for the ride, Hanatarou-kun!" She planted a kiss on the boy's cheek and made her way down the sidewalk.

Hanatarou grinned and blushed and resettled the remaining groceries safely in their basket before turning back to Renji.

"You … bought it?"

"Hai!" Hanatarou's mild face beamed as he rubbed at a spot with his jacket. He was dressed in some kind of uniform, Renji realized, one covered in spots and grease stains. "I work at a grocery store not far from here – I'm the delivery boy."

"In gigai?" Renji's voice was faint – he still couldn't look away from the bike…

"Hai…" Hanatarou replied slowly. "I asked if I could take a vacation in the human world and gather more information about it at the same time." He peered at Renji. "Are you alright, Abarai fukutaichou?"

"You bought a scooter?" Renji's hand crept forward and gingerly touched one handlebar.

"Do you like it?" Hanatarou's eyes were even more anxious than usual. "Would you like to ride it?"

* * *

_A/N: Renji entranced by a scooter... Mental picture is just awesome.  
_

_Translations:  
fukutaichou: Lieutenant  
gomen: sorry  
hai: yes  
gigai: artificial body to house a Shinigami when they want to be seen or heard in the real world__  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**Dedicated to my brother Inu no Taisho - who inadvertently activated my competitive streak when he began writing so many awesome stories. -RedMiko-**

_Disclaimer: Of _**course **_I don't own Bleach. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction.._.

* * *

Sunsets in Karakura town were always memorable. If Ichigo didn't know better, he would have said that it was due to the high level of reiatsu given off by the townspeople. The air shimmered in the evening light, breaking into splendid hues of orange and red and purple and gold, bathing the city in a beautiful glow. But Sensei had said it was due to the heavy pollution let off by all the drivers in the city and the several miles worth of factories along the banks of the river where it met the sea and is a sunset really beautiful if you know the reason its colors are so bright is because of the toxins in the air and shouldn't we be lobbying for less sunsets and more clean air?

With a sigh, Ichigo lay back in the grass and ignored the fact that the sunset might indeed be slowly killing him and just allowed the time to pass like the lazy river below. Beside him, Rukia perched on a rock, frowning at her cell phone. There hadn't been any Hollow activity in weeks – but she stared at it as if the very heat of her gaze could summon one.

"Na, Rukia," he murmured, lacing his fingers under his head. "Stop fidgeting."

"Shut up, Ichigo," she snapped, not raising her eyes from the small display screen. "I'm bored. If a Hollow doesn't show up soon, I may go call one up."

He glared at her. "You do and I'll find some way to perform konso on you."

"Ah! Kurosaki-kun, Kuchiki-san!"

Ichigo raised his head, a tiny smile creeping across his features. Orihime was running toward them, a warm smile adorning her face. Even Rukia found it difficult to continue scowling.

"Hello, Inoue-san," she called, closing up her phone and waving. Ichigo lowered his head again and allowed the smile to grow a little wider before cloaking it again. It was going to be another pleasant evening, the warm summer breezes wafting over them. Sometimes Orihime would join them, sometimes Chad would bring his guitar and allow the notes to drift along the air. Sometimes Ishida would arrive, pretending to have stumbled across them by chance and happen to have bought a bagful of apples for no reason whatsoever. He'd sit with a fixed expression of concentration and pull out his latest costume, stitching carefully and sedately, listening to their aimless conversation and interjecting dry comments of his own.

Orihime arrived, planting herself with a contended sigh by his side even as she continued her conversation with Rukia. There was no goal of the talk, just allowing the words to flow. Ichigo half listened to them, wondering idly if others would arrive to join them.

A low purr interrupted the summer evening. No - not a low purr. Not quite. Maybe more like the rusty rumble of a lion who was trying to purr. This purr was once a soft, dulcet sound but now choked on its own tongue. Ichigo sat up and stared back up the hillside to the road that ran atop it. Rukia joined him - but Orihime giggled and clapped her hands. "I think it's Hanatarou!"

Ichigo squinted - true, there was a figure on the scooter that now growled into view - but this figure had unruly red hair sticking up from the crown of his head and a streak of tattoos near his hairline...

"Matte, kudusai! Abarai fukutaichou!" A second figure clung to the first, massive helmet dwarfing the body. "Abarai-fukutaichou, slow down! Please, the engine isn't meant to go this fast!" Hanatarou half-pleaded, half-shouted as he shrank against the taller man's back. Renji gunned the engine as well as he could and then, with a fierce grin apparent even at this distance, hit the brakes as hard as he could, spraying gravel. Hanatarou lost his grip and his voice and was flung off into the grass halfway between Ichigo and the top of the hill.

"Hanatarou-kun!" Orihime exclaimed, running up to the winded boy.

"Renji, baka!" Rukia cried, leaping after Orihime. She passed the other girl and screeched to a halt in front of the smirking Shinigami. "What the hell are you riding?"

Renji grinned. "A scooter." He carefully turned the stricken engine off and patted the handlebars. "Isn't it kickass?"

"It's a scooter," Ichigo pointed out, coming up behind them. "And it's pink."

Rukia paused, stared at this observation, and started laughing hysterically. "Renji! Riding a pink scooter!"

"Isn't it cool?" Renji continued, nonplussed. "It's such an amazing feeling, being able to drive." He looked at Rukia, who rolled on the ground laughing even harder, and a sly grin covered his features. "You can't drive, can you?"

Her laughter hiccupped to a halt and she look up at him with a scowl. "You can't either. You don't have a license!"

He pretended to examine the keys in his hand closely and then straightened, taking a deep breath. A huge, devil-may-care grin flashed across his face. "Who needs a damn license?" He dangled the keys in her face before hopping back on the scooter. "Hanatarou! Let's go! I'll take you back to the grocery store!"

The golden healing shield around Hanatarou flickered and Orihime brushed off her knees as she stood and helped Hanatarou up. He looked dejected. "All right, Abarai-fukutaichou. But please, not so fast this time…" Gingerly, he walked back up the hillside and perched onto the seat behind Renji.

"Right. Later!" Renji crowed, starting the engine and peeling away.

Hanatarou howled. "Abarai-fukutaichou!" But distanced faded his voice and even the choked engine disappeared into the gathering twilight.

"Ah – that scooter is so fun," Orihime smiled, watching after them. "Hanatarou is a good driver, but I wonder what it's like to ride with Renji-kun driving."

"Baka," Ichigo snapped, wondering why he suddenly felt so protective. Visions of a maimed and mangled Orihime lying amidst scooter wreckage flashed across his brain and he shuddered. "You'd only get hurt."

She turned her smile on him. "Not if I wore a helmet. Maybe I'll go see if I can find a helmet." She strolled off, humming a song and laughing to herself.

"Oi, Inoue!" Ichigo yelled after her. "Baka – don't go riding with Renji!" He moved to follow her but found his wrist in a steady grip.

"Ichigo."

Rukia's voice was a mixture of focused contemplation and thinly concealed irritation – a clear warning sign that he'd better pay attention or suffer slow death. He still kept one eye on Orihime even as he turned to face Rukia. Her face bore the deepest, most intense scowl he'd ever seen and he felt the hairs rise up on the back of his neck.

"Rukia…"

"Ichigo. Where did Renji learn to drive?"

"Baka," he snapped. "You think I know?"

"Do you know how to drive?"

He snorted. "Yeah – but I don't have my license yet."

Her blue eyes bored fiercely into his. "Teach me."

"What the hell?"

Grabbing his shirt collar, she pushed her nose almost against his, filling his sight with her frown. "I'm not going to let Renji out-do me. Teach me."

He shrugged her off and started walking after Orihime. "Like hell I will. Go take the class."

"Ichigo."

This tone of voice was even worse than the first – this one had a sweet note that sent shivers up and down his spine. It was the tone of voice she had adopted when she first arrived in his classroom all those months ago. The tone of voice said that he'd better listen and comply or there would be seven hells inhabiting his dreams tonight.

"Ichigo. If you don't teach me how to drive, I'll lock your soul in the Seireitei and tell Kon you told him to use your body any way he likes."

* * *

_A/N: Poor Hanatarou. Poor Ichigo. Poor scooter...  
_

_Translations:  
reiatsu: spirit energy/pressure  
__na: hey_  
_Sensei: Ichigo and his friends' teacher  
matte kudusai: please wait!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Dedicated to my brother Inu no Taisho - who inadvertently activated my competitive streak when he began writing so many awesome stories. -RedMiko-**

_Disclaimer: Of _**course **_I don't own Bleach. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction.._.

* * *

The store had caught Renji's eye as he had driven Hanatarou back to the grocery store. Row upon row of scooters sat in the window, gleaming. He'd pulled over, distractedly handed Hanatarou the keys and pushed open the door.

Inside, he listened as Hanatarou's now distressed scooter puttered down the street.

"Damn," came a low drawl. "I just sold him that bike a week ago. He must've killed the engine…"

Renji searched for the owner of the voice, looking past the shiny metal and crome and the rich black rubber tires. Beyond the counter, a young woman sat, drawing scrollwork on the back of her hand with a ballpoint pen. Her hair was in long black and purple dreadlocks, her skin-tight leather emphasizing her slightly overweight frame. Renji decided she must have more metal in her piercings that most of the scooters put together. What startled him even more was that she probably had twice the number of tattoos he did.

"Hey," she said, looking up and admiring him with a frank eye. "You're cute. What're you looking for?"

He grinned. "One of those." He pointed to the scooters in the window. "Like my friend has."

"Pink?" She raised her eyebrow as she came around the counter. "Anyway – those are brand new. He bought his secondhand. Good engine but needed a lot of work. He brought it by this morning and it was running like a top." She eyed him up and down. "You a good mechanic too?"

"Uhh…" He looked at the models – both new and old. So many shades of color – and not a pink one to be seen. One stood out – red, with chrome trim and black stripes and black leather. "No? How much for a new scooter?"

She pursed her lips. "You know – you're not a scooter man. Him," and she jerked her thumb in the direction Hanatarou had left a while ago, "he's a scooter boy. You're not."

"What the hell do you mean I'm not?"

A mysterious, sultry grin – or something akin to it – worked its way across her face. "C'mere."

She led him farther back, on the other side of the store. The bikes were bigger here, more muscular. They radiated power in a way he'd never seen before and it was like he'd never laid eyes on a scooter.

"You need one of these."

He could only stand and gape. No sound, no breath, no movement. The machines before looked like they could kill.

"Where'd you get your tattoos done?"

He was too engrossed to even think about the question, much less the answer. "In Soul Society."

"Soul Society?" Her tone caught him back to the present and he held his breath. She stared at his eyebrows and grinned. "Never heard of it. Is it that one place in Tokyo?"

* * *

_A/N: It was only a matter of time... :D And I totally think that Soul Society is both a good name and a cheesy name for a tattoo shop._


	4. Chapter 4

**Dedicated to my brother Inu no Taisho - who inadvertently activated my competitive streak when he began writing so many awesome stories. -RedMiko-**

_Disclaimer: Of _**course**_I don't own Bleach. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction.._.

* * *

His hands shaking, Ichigo ripped the keys from the ignition and collapsed back in his seat. Beside him, still behind the wheel, Rukia blinked at him. "What did I do wrong?"

It was too much. "Wrong? What the hell do you mean wrong?" he exploded, flinging his hands in the air. "You mean, besides driving on the wrong side of the road?"

Her expression was sulky. "I got on the right side after a while."

"Yeah – after you almost hit a bicyclist. And then you didn't use your turn signal and nearly ran over a cat and Tamikawa-o-baa-san is going to tell my dad about your destroying her rose bushes and I'm not going to have an ass for a month!"

"But at least I parked." She crossed her arms and stared out the windshield. "This is hard!"

"Oh really?" He pounded his head on the dashboard in frustration. "Should I have explained it using your freakin' drawings before we started with the car?"

Disdain etched itself in her expression. "It's the least you could have done."

"You wouldn't let me, baka! You shoved me into the car under pain of letting Kon loose."

Her jaw clenched. "Renji did it. Why can't I?"

He groaned. "So that's why you want to drive? Because Renji can?"

Silence radiated from her side of the car.

"Baka…" His voice trailed off. "Cars are different than scooters. Scooters are easy."

"But you don't have a scooter."

"Well, then why don't you ask Hanatarou to teach you!" he snapped. He opened the door and stormed out, slamming it behind him. Long scratches from its fight with a passing tree meandered along the car door and he groaned again. There would be no end to the torment his dad would inflict on him. A bench sat nearby – they had parked nearby one of the many parks because he figured it would be better if Rukia accidentally jumped the curb and ended up in the bushes than if she'd jumped the sidewalk and plowed down pedestrians – and so he flopped down on it and tried to get his hands to stop shaking.

A car door slammed again and footsteps told him that Rukia was joining him. He didn't look at her.

"What's harder than a car? To drive, I mean."

"A motorcycle," he replied automatically. "You have to get a special license to drive them."

Quiet moments stretched between them and the dark clouds slowly dissipated. In the sky overhead, the sun started its downward path towards night again, the birds dipping up and down through the gentle wind.

"I've seen motorcycles, I think," she said, swinging her feet. "They look fast."

"Yeah." He sighed and leaned back against the bench. "I want one. Someday. Maybe I could have In—people ride on the back." He flushed and drew his eyebrows together in a frown.

She pounced. "In – you mean Inoue-san?"

He ignored her. "I think shuunpo might be the closest thing I know to that sort of speed right now."

"Ichigo…" her voice was soft and it made him uncomfortable.

"Whatever," he growled, standing and stretching. "Let's go home. I've got to explain this to Dad somehow. He likes you, though. Maybe he won't kill me too much."

Rukia didn't budge. "Ichigo – are you in lo—"

A deep-throated, sexy rumble cut her off, the sound traveling through them both like an unseen tremor. And then, gliding along the street, came the motorcycle, a sleek demon weaving in and out of traffic. Black, with a red underbelly and red stripes, it radiated speed and energy. It even had silver flames stenciled along the front under the handle bars.

"Ninja…" Ichigo choked. "Ninja…"

The bike glided to a stop in front of them and the car and the rider turned off the engine. Up close, one could see there was only one seat – but two people crammed into it, the latter with their arms wrapped around the driver's chest. Both riders wore streamlined helmets with a red dragon on them and thick leather jackets.

"Ah! Kurosaki-kun! Kuchiki-san!"

The voice was too familiar. Ichigo felt his throat constrict as the rider in back pulled off her helmet and shook free her shimmering hair and wiped the sweat off her face. "Kurosaki-kun – you should get a motorcycle – it's so fun and free!" She struggled to hop off and caught her foot, tumbling.

"Baka!" he shouted, lunging for her. She landed in his arms, smelling of sweat and new leather and a faint perfume – in essence, intoxicating. Her eyes shone like two stars and suddenly, he wanted a motorcycle more than anything in the world if it meant he could bring that light into her eyes. But he couldn't tell her that now – instead, he rounded on the driver just as he pulled off his helmet.

"Renji!" Rukia gaped. "What the hell is this?!"

"What the hell does it look like?" he smirked, mocking her. "A motorcycle. Way more kickass than a damn scooter."

She spluttered for a moment while he got off and wiped off a stray fingerprint with great intensity.

"Renji! Why the hell did you let Inoue ride? You could have gotten her killed!" Ichigo roared. "She's a klutz!"

Orihime laughed, her cheeks flushed. "Don't worry, Kurosaki-kun. That's why he bought me the jacket and the helmet." She unzipped the coat and pulled it off, looking at it a little sorrowfully. "Even though it isn't really for me."

"Why Inoue? Why did she get a ride?" Rukia demanded, at last able to form coherent sentences.

Renji grinned up at her. "Because she was walking home and I saw her and she asked me for a ride."

"She asked you for a ride?"

"Yeah - she asked me for a ride, baka! What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing!"

"Then why the hell are you frickin' shouting at me?"

"Here, Kuchiki-san." Orihime pushed the jacket and helmet at the smaller woman. "He bought these for you."

Silence echoed for a moment.

"For me?" Rukia stood there, immobile. Her gaze flipped between Renji's face and the equipment Orihime now handed her.

"For you."

When Rukia made no move to take them, Orihime set the helmet down and began forcing Rukia's stiff arms into the sleeves of the jacket. "Hey, Renji - it's too big on her," Orihime exclaimed, her eyes wide.

"The hell you complaining about?" Renji's rubbed his forehead in embarrassment. "Rukia's bigger in my imagination."

Rukia's howl of indignation was cut off as Orihime shoved the the helmet over Rukia's head and then pushed the fuming Shinigami towards Renji. "Go riding, Rukia! Renji said he couldn't wait to have you ride."

Renji picked Rukia up easily, swinging the protesting girl onto the bike and then adjusting the straps on her helmet. When she slapped at his hands, he clamped onto her wrists, dwarfing them in his large fingers and glaring at her. "You wanna damn ride or not, Rukia?" he growled. "Or do I have to frickin' drag you behind the wheels?"

Her muffled voice floated out from under the helmet and she struggled against his hold. Pulling her wrists into one hand, he yanked open the faceplate with the other. "There's only one seat!" she said.

He flipped the faceplate down once more. "That's the point, baka." He slid on in front of her and pulled her arms around him, a smug grin on his face.

"Renji – how the hell did you get the money?" Ichigo managed to make out before Renji could turn on the bike and take off. Rukia had finally stopped yelling and sat silent, her arms around Renji's middle. Even with the helmet on, Ichigo could see the gleam in her eyes. For all her arguing, she clung a little too hard to Renji now.

Renji turned, his helmet in his hands and a surprised look on his face. "Shinigami don't work for free, you know. We get paid." His face broke into another smirk. "Come to think of it, you don't, do you? Eh, _Substitute _Shinigami?" He jammed the helmet on his head, turned on the engine and roared away, Rukia hanging onto him and laughing.

Simmering, Ichigo watched them disappear.

"Ooh – that was so much fun!" Orihime grinned and threw her arms around him. "I can't wait to go again!"

Ichigo decided right then and there to have a few choice words with whomever was in charge of payroll in Soul Society…

* * *

_A/N: The bike Renji eventually settled on was the Kawasaki Ninja ZX-14 - which is a little more souped up than I prefer - but it's definitely something I think Renji would love. Especially with only one seat. Sneaky guy..._

_The scooter Hanatarou had was a Honda 2007 Elite 80 - painted pink because the last owner was a spoiled school girl who got rid of it when it was no longer the right shade of pink. _

_I've always wondered if Shinigami got paid for what they do. I mean, I suppose money would be kinda obsolete - but then they have mission budgets and whatnot... Or maybe that was in the filler. Still..._

_Thank you all who have reviewed so far - I'm still new at this so every review makes my day. rubs head sheepishly -RedMiko-_


	5. Chapter 5

**Dedicated to my brother Inu no Taisho - who inadvertently activated my competitive streak when he began writing so many awesome stories. -RedMiko-**

_Disclaimer: Of _**course**_ I don't own Bleach. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction.._.

* * *

He walked her home, feeling awkward. He'd never walked her home. Come to think of it, he hadn't been to her apartment since – since – well, since the last time he'd gone to rescue her. In fact, if he thought about it, he can't remember what it even looked like. All that filled his memory was her distraught face as her brother tried to kill him, her blood painting the night sky as she rushed between them.

He shuddered and she halted in the middle of her random bubbling to look at him. "Are you all right, Kurosaki-kun?"

Orihime'd changed since she'd come back – they'd all changed. Once upon a time, she would have rambled on until he could barely restrain a growl. But now, her eyes were different – clearer, perhaps. Sadder, definitely. He wondered, as he looked at those thoughts filling his head how he knew all this. Or why he cared.

"Eh – just thinking about all this." He flipped his hand in the air, as if to encompass all of Karakura – or perhaps just them. He didn't know.

It must have been the motorcycle. It must have been the way she'd held onto Renji as they flew past. Or the way Renji helped her down with a casual swing and meaningful grin. As if with Renji, Orihime was safe, no matter what Renji was driving or how many laws he broke. Or maybe it had been the sheer joy in her eyes as she hugged him or the way she looked like she belonged.

Or maybe he'd changed.

"Kurosaki-kun? Don't make me pour water in your ears to see if your head's hollow."

He started. "Baka – what are you talking about?" He could feel the scowl gathering and then watched half in surprise and half in amusement as she pulled the corners of her mouth down and drew her eyebrows together, mocking him.

"Kurosaki-kun has his thinking frown on. I should paste a mustache on you so you could twirl it like an evil villain while you think." She fought to keep the expression on her face and gave up, collapsing into giggles.

"Baka." He reached out to swat her head but she ducked and skipped away. He didn't chase her so she let him catch up again. But this time she was quiet – and he found it both comforting and a little unnerving.

And then – "Are you lonely?" It popped out of his mouth before he could run it past his "cool" sensors. So intent was he on mentally kicking himself that he didn't notice she'd stopped until he turned to apologize and found her gone.

She stood a little ways back, her eyes creased at the corners and her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "Am I lonely?" He could barely hear the whisper and he felt guilt begin to gnaw on the edge of his mind. "Well – Tatsuki brings me dinner some nights – maybe once a week. Or sometimes I go to her house." She began walking once more. "And once in a while Chad comes and teaches me to cook Mexican food."

"What? Chad cooks?"

"Oh yes! And sometimes he practices his bass. Except now he's learning Spanish guitar." She laughed at his gaping mouth. "Sometimes Ishida comes over and we work on sewing club projects. Rukia and Renji watch a movie once in a while." Another giggle escaped her as her face softened with the reminiscing. "Rukia has to hold his zanpakuto or he destroys the TV. He got really caught up in Kill Bill."

He stared at her until he couldn't hold back the mental image any longer and he gave into a burst of chuckles. She laughed with him.

Yet the hilarity trailed off and Ichigo was left with the realization that he'd never really hung out with Orihime before. Of course, if he invited her over for dinner, there'd be hell to pay in the form of merciless Goat-chin teasing. Pondering for a moment, he laid out the pros and cons of watching a movie with her. The end result was still an all-out Goat-Chin inquiry.

"…lonely."

Her voice slipped through his thoughts and he refocused. "What?"

"I said, I suppose I'm not really all that lonely." She was a little ways ahead of him, her hands clasped behind her back and her gaze up at the stars. "But there's something missing maybe."

In a split second, he calculated her aimless trajectory. Reaching out a hand, he yanked her out of the way of the fence post. She let out a yelp and stumbled into him, grabbing at his arm to steady herself, overbalancing until he steadied her with his hands on her upper arms. She met his gaze – not quite with the frankness Rukia did – and definitely not the impudence. But she was no longer meek and hesitant Inoue. There was a curiosity flickering and that aggravating sadness that he didn't understand but made him want to beat down the reason for her sorrow. Yet, somehow, he suspected it was leftover from her time in Hueco Mundo. And that wasn't something easily fixed. Yet…it hadn't been there when she'd swung down from the motorcycle…

"Kurosaki-kun?"

"Protecting you is a lot of work," he grumbled, releasing her. He shoved his hands in his pockets, continued walking and listened to her trot to keep up. Her eyes reminded him of Rukia's – when she left him to die on the street while she was taken away to be executed. The way his sisters' had looked in the months after his mother had died. The way – he realized – his must look when something important was missing.

Yet her response startled him. "Ne, Kurosaki-kun. You don't need to protect me." Her eyes closed in a smile and for a moment, he could pretend there was no sadness.

"Baka! You almost ran into a fence!"

Her eyes snapped open. "It's just a fence. And I have so many nakama. You don't have to always look out for me. Ishida-kun just the other day took care of a Hollow. And Sado-kun rescued me from the mean dog down the street. And I—" Her defiant tone wavered for a moment and then she jut out her chin. "And I can command Tsubaki now. So I can protect my nakama too."

They turned down a street and he saw her apartment. Unlike his home, the windows were dark and the door unlit. How could she come home in this? Where every shadow might hide an attacker or even one of the Espada in hiding? As if in answer to his thoughts, a shadow peeled itself away from the walls and advanced upon them.

"Bastard!" Ichigo snapped, leaping in front of Orihime, his arms outspread. "Who-?"

"Hello, Ishida-kun," Orihime smiled, stepping nimbly around Ichigo.

Ishida adjusted his glasses and gave a faint smile, his gaze flitting to Ichigo. "Inoue-san, Kurosaki."

"Come in, Ishida!" Orihime fumbled with her keys a moment. "I'll make some tea. I have beef hot pot tonight – and I made it my favorite way for me and the way Tatsuki's mom makes it for you." She unlocked the door at last, beckoning her friend in.

Ichigo watched them enter, suddenly feeling a little jealous. Inoue turned, her face tinged with a smile. "Kurosaki-kun, would you like to come in for a few minutes?"

To hell with his dad and his "my son doesn't love me" rants – a few minutes wouldn't hurt…

And then his cell phone rang.

"Ichigo!" Rukia's voice was terse, barking across the phone and piercing into his ear, a direct tether to his spine as he straightened in reflex. "Come home! Your father's insane!"

"What else is new?" he demanded, holding the phone away from his ear. "Deal with it."

"He's threatening Renji with a pair of syringes."

"The hell he is! What'd you do to him?" Ichigo felt the heat rise in his face. Orihime watched him in shocked bemusement while Ishida leaned on the door frame and smirked. So much for movies at Orihime's.

"Nothing! Renji just made a simple request."

"Whatever! Just – just don't do anything stupid." Ichigo snapped the phone shut with a vengeance. "Guess it'll have to be some other night, Inoue."

She smiled. "That's alright, Kurosaki-kun. Good luck!"

He gave a half-apologetic smile in return and turned, heard the door shut behind him. Somehow it echoed for a moment, though how and why, he wasn't sure.

-----

He arrived to find the whole of his small family gathered in his driveway. Karin and Yuzu stood closest to the house, the former etched with disdain, the latter hopping from one foot to the other with her hands clasped in front of her.

In the driveway, facing off, Goat-chin and Renji scowled in unison, though Renji's face looked a little uneasy around the edges. Ichigo couldn't blame him – it was hard to remain belligerent in the face of two syringes filled with a mysterious opaque liquid. Rukia stood to one side, her hands on her hips. Her quick eyes caught sight of him and in a instant, she'd pounced and dragged him over. "Ichigo, tell your father he can't hurt Renji!"

"But don't you hurt him, baka?" Ichigo said, jerking his wrist from her hand.

"Ichigo!" his father cut in, his eyes never leaving Renji's face. Renji edged a little closer to his motorcycle, as if the bike could somehow offer protection. "Ichigo! This tattooed terrorist drove on our lawn and frightened Rukia-chan and is now asking me to hold his bike while he goes on business!"

"I couldn't think of anyone else," Renji muttered from the corner of his mouth and ducked Goat-chin's syringe-pointed swipe. "Ichigo – help a guy out!"

"Ichigo – you know this punk?"

"He didn't frighten me!" Rukia yelpd but no one paid attention.

Ichigo stood there watching Renji squirm. For a moment, leaving things as they were and maybe finding out what exactly the liquid in the syringes _did_ seemed like a really good idea to Ichigo. The motorcycle sat, gleaming, taunting him, and he hesitated. And then he saw Rukia's eyes, murderous, boring into him with fervor. "Lay off, Dad," he finally grumbled.

His father threw up his hands in horror, the syringes swishing, and they all ducked. "Ichigo! My own son!"

"Renji's okay, Dad. He's Rukia's boyfriend."

Karin laughed outright as three sets of eyes stared at Ichigo. Rukia spluttered, her already heated gaze reaching radioactive levels while Renji's attempt at injured indignation morphed into him merely looking smug. Isshin's gape crumbled and he gave a groan. "Masaki, how did they turn out this way?"

"Cope, Dad," Ichigo said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Taking a deep breath, Goat-Chin turned his piercing gaze back on Renji. "You."

"Yes sir?" The smug look melted from Renji's face, replaced with apprehension.

In a flash of a second, Isshin crossed the distance between him and Renji and grabbed a fistful of collar. Renji gulped. "Keep your bike here. On two conditions."

Renji relaxed slightly – but only slightly. "Yes sir!"

"One." Isshin held up the first syringe and shook it so the fluid sloshes. Renji shifted. "You fix my lawn. With your own two hands."

Renji slumped and nodded.

"Why doesn't he just take it back to Soul Society?" Ichigo hissed at Rukia as he sidled up next to her.

"Urahara says it won't go through the gate." Rukia glared up at him. "Boyfriend, Ichigo? Maybe I _will_ let Kon use your body."

"Like to see you try, Shorty," he said back. Somehow, seeing Renji cower in front of his dad gave him more courage than usual. And somehow, Rukia couldn't seem to answer back with her usual irritation.

"And two—" the second syringe joined the first and Goat-Chin waved them both in Renji's face, his fist still curled in Renji's shirt. "Leave me the keys."

* * *

_A/N: I actually wasn't planning on writing more on this. The first four chapters popped into my head, fully formed, and I thought it would be a nice way for Renji to pwn Ichigo for once. And I'm a sucker for Rukia/Renji stories. I've been sitting on this fifth chapter for months now, trying to decide if it fits with the first bit - I finally decided to just post it and let you decide since you've all been wonderful reviewers. I realize this focuses more on Ichigo/Orihime - I hope you don't mind._

_In all honesty, I don't know where this is going. I have no real plan for it other than a vague idea that's been more or less touched on throughout the chapters. I don't know when I'll write the next chapter. But I appreciate each and every one of my reviews from you all - thank you so much! :)  
_


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